by Rachel Lacey
She’d seen it before, of course. It sat next to a photo of Jake with his mother and sister and one of him riding Twister that Megan herself had taken last month. Now, she stood and walked over, picking up the delicate silver frame. Alana beamed at her from behind the glass, so young, so innocent, so beautiful. She and Jake had their arms around each other, looking radiantly happy and in love.
Tears welled in Megan’s eyes at the cruelty of it all, for everything Jake had been through and for Alana herself, thinking she had her whole life ahead of her with the man she loved, not knowing she would lose it all on her wedding day. Swiping at her eyes, Megan set the picture back on the shelf.
She picked up the photo of Jake on Twister, admiring his strong profile, his comfortable and commanding stance astride his horse. She’d taken it late one afternoon, with the sun’s amber rays spilling over the treetops behind him, muting the other colors in the photo. She’d always liked to play with light—the sun in particular—in her photography, and this shot was one of her favorites.
The rest of the photos on the shelf were hers. There was a picture of her, Ruby, and Elle at Disney World a few years ago. Growing up in Orlando, they’d spent a lot of time at theme parks. Next to that was a photo of Megan with her parents in a blue glass frame, and a photo of Megan and her grandmother at Megan’s high school graduation beside that.
There wasn’t a photo of her and Jake. Somehow, she hadn’t noticed that before. Why hadn’t he added one? Why hadn’t she?
Why wasn’t he home yet?
She looked at the smiling, unscarred version of herself in the photos on the shelf, fingers going reflexively to her left cheek. Would she ever look that carefree again? Were she and Jake really building something solid here, or were they just playing house together while they both hid from the demons in their past?
She sat and tried to read for another hour, watching as the clock ticked past nine and kept going. Finally, she put the lasagna in the fridge, took the dogs out, and went to bed, alone.
By the time he got home that night, Jake was as emotionally drained as he’d been last year this time. He hadn’t meant to stay out so late, but the day had gotten away from him. After he left the Robertson’s, he’d stopped back by the cemetery on the way home. He’d needed to go alone, to sit there and vent the last of his grief by himself.
In truth, the day had hit him harder than he’d expected it to, and he was so incredibly glad he had Megan to hold him tonight. He’d spent so many unbearable nights alone in bed, aching for the touch, the company, the presence of another person. But when he let himself in through the front door of the farmhouse, he was greeted by silence.
The lights were out, and Megan was nowhere to be seen. He glanced at the clock, realizing it was past ten. That was still early for her to be in bed, but maybe she’d gotten bored by herself. Oreo and Cookie stirred in their crates, looking at Jake.
He should have called. It wasn’t like him to get so caught up in his own business that he forgot to check in with her. But nothing about today had been ordinary. He walked down the hall, trying to soften his footsteps in case she was asleep. Sure enough, she was in bed, her back to the door, dark hair fanning across the pillow behind her.
Barnaby hopped up from his dog bed, walking over to Jake while his tail wagged in full loops. Jake bent to pet him. He undressed quietly and went into the bathroom to wash up before climbing in beside Megan. She rolled to face him, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“How did it go?” she asked softly.
“It went. I’m just so glad to have you here tonight.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
He held on to her for a long time, and eventually they fell asleep like that, in each other’s arms.
Over the next few days, things got back to normal, more or less. April rolled into May, and he was busy training Rumor and beginning Bug’s early under saddle work. His new boarder was set to arrive at the end of the week. It had been two months now since he arrived at Rosemont Castle, and he felt comfortably established here, personally and professionally. Hopefully, things would continue to grow, on both fronts.
An idea had taken hold in his mind, a surprise for Megan that he thought might end up being just what she—and Bug—needed. When they were alone together, though, something still felt…off. He wasn’t sure what it was or how to fix it, but she seemed distant at times in a way she never had before. Maybe he was imagining it. Or maybe he was even the cause of it. Maybe he was still adjusting to all the changes in his life, and she was just reacting to him.
On Tuesday night, they had dinner at the castle with Elle, Theo, and Ruby, sharing lots of laughter and good food. He and Megan walked back to the farmhouse afterward, hand in hand.
“Do you have photo albums?” she asked.
“What?” He had no idea where that question had come from.
“Pictures of you as a child, of you and Alana on your wedding day, anything. I’ve only ever seen those few photos you keep in the living room. You must have some, right?”
“I must,” he agreed. “I do.”
“Would you show them to me when we get home?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Thank you.” She leaned in to give him a kiss.
Barnaby greeted them at the door when they entered the farmhouse, tail wagging enthusiastically. Jake leashed him while Megan went into the living room to get Oreo and Cookie out of their crates so they could walk all the dogs together.
“I can really see how a fenced-in yard comes in handy,” Megan commented as they circled around behind the barn. “You can just open the back door and let them out.”
“That would be nice,” he agreed. They looped around the grounds and back to the house. “I have a few boxes in the office I haven’t gotten around to unpacking yet. I’m pretty sure one of them has photos in it.”
“Let’s go dig through them,” Megan said with a gentle smile. “I want to see young Jake.”
“There may not be many,” he cautioned. “My mom wasn’t really the photo album type.”
“I’m sorry.” She rested a hand on his biceps as they walked down the hall to the office together. “I’ve never really been in here,” she commented as she stood in the doorway, surveying the room. “That’s quite a bookshelf.”
He looked over at the built-in shelving he’d had installed after he moved in. The shelves extended from floor to ceiling along the back wall, and he’d already filled them with books. “It doesn’t compare to Theo’s library, but I’ve always wanted one of my own. Books have always been my escape.”
“Theo’s library is almost overwhelming, it’s so impressive,” Megan commented as she walked over to survey the shelves. “This is more personal and inviting. Have you read them all?”
“Almost all.” He walked to the closet and pulled out a box. “Okay, let’s find some pictures.” He pulled it open and sifted through various papers and odds and ends inside until he got to the framed photos beneath. There was one of him and his sister on the beach when he was about seven and she was ten, and one of them with their mom.
“Do you keep in touch with your sister?” Megan asked as she looked at the photos. “You never talk about her.”
“We call each other on birthdays and holidays. I see her once or twice a year. There’s no bad blood. We just…aren’t close, I guess. She moved away after Mom died and created a new life for herself.”
“That’s sad,” Megan murmured. “I’m an only child, but I always wished for a sibling when I was little. I made up for it with friends.” She smiled to herself.
“Elle and Ruby?”
“Yeah. Lifelong BFFs.”
He rummaged deeper in the box until he found his wedding album. He’d never had any of their wedding photos framed. The entire event was such a dichotomy of emotions, the overwhelming love and excitement he’d felt as they exchanged vows, the terror when Alana had fallen. He hadn’t fully grasped the severity of things until the next day,
when Alana was still comatose and the doctors started talking about living wills.
He wouldn’t even have this album if Tina hadn’t made it for him. She’d given it to him on his and Alana’s first wedding anniversary, a bittersweet gift. That familiar heaviness spread around his chest as he handed it to Megan.
She squeezed his hand as she sat cross-legged on the floor and started going through the photos. “She was so beautiful in her wedding dress,” she whispered.
“She was perfect,” he said quietly, looking down at the photo of him and Alana exchanging vows at the front of the church. Alana’s blonde hair had been tied back in a sleek knot and covered with a long veil. Health and happiness sparkled in her blue eyes, so much life there, all of which would be snuffed out a few hours later. Her heart kept beating for another nine years, but he would never see her beautiful blue eyes again, never hear her laugh or see her smile, never carry her over the threshold into their home.
“We took all our wedding portraits before her fall, so her mom went ahead and put the album together for me afterward. We cut the cake, had our first dance. She went outside with a couple of her friends to get some fresh air, and…didn’t come back.”
“So awful,” she murmured.
“It was.”
“Thanks for sharing her with me.” Megan rested a hand on his leg and put the album back in the box. As she climbed to her feet, there was something in her eyes Jake hadn’t seen there in a long time…not since she used to comb her hair over the side of her face to hide her scar.
They watched TV and went to bed together like they always did, but something was different, something had changed. Megan was distant. She almost seemed…hurt. But why? By the time he woke beside her the next morning, he’d convinced himself it was just a weird reaction to seeing photos of his wedding to Alana. But when he tried to kiss her and she rolled away, he knew it was something more.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
She kept her back to him. “I just…”
“Tell me.” Because she was starting to scare him.
“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a bitch, but you’re still in love with your wife.”
“What?” He sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “I mean, of course I’ll always love her in some way, but it has nothing to do with the love I feel for you.”
Megan rolled to face him, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Last night, you said she was perfect, and you know what? You’re right. She was perfect. How could I ever compete with that?” She pressed a hand against the scarred side of her face. “Maybe it’s what drew us to each other in the first place—all this fucking tragedy—or maybe you’re only attracted to me because you feel sorry for me, or—”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” His stomach had gone sour. “There’s nothing tragic about you, Megan, and as for your scars, I don’t even think about them. Do you realize how many scars I have from a lifetime spent working with horses? You think I care about an imperfection in your skin?”
She turned away. “I don’t know what to think.”
An uncomfortable heat spread across his skin. “I think you’re being ridiculous right now.”
“Am I?” She sat up to face him. “Because half the town can barely stand to look at me. Are you sure you’re not with me because I take the attention off you?”
“Well that’s pretty fucking insulting.” He stared at her for a long minute as anger warred with hurt inside him.
She slid out of bed and started pulling on clothes. “I should go.”
“The hell you should.” He strode to his dresser and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers. Barnaby watched from his dog bed, ears pinned at the harsh words being exchanged. “Obviously, we have some things to talk about.”
“I just…I think maybe we jumped into this too quickly,” she said quietly.
“Well, we’re here now, and I don’t think I’m the one having trouble with it. Maybe you need to take a harder look at yourself, Megan.” They faced each other across the bedroom.
Her cheeks were pink, her eyes wide and glossy. “So, that’s how you want to play this? Pin it on me?”
“You know what, maybe we do need some time apart.” He pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk about what’s really going on here.”
And with that, he stormed out of the bedroom, out of the house, not slowing until he’d reached the barn.
17
By midmorning, Jake had dropped a fifty-pound bag of grain on his foot and soaked himself with the water hose. Obviously, his mind was elsewhere. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the realization of how insecure Megan still was about her scars or the hurtful things she’d said. And now he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He’d said they needed some time apart, but probably what they needed more was to talk, really talk, once they’d both calmed down and cooled off.
He spent the morning in the barn before heading out to training sessions with two of his offsite clients. By the time he made it back to the farmhouse, it was almost dinnertime. As soon as he walked through the front door, he could tell it was too quiet inside. Barnaby greeted him at the door, but there were no rustling noises from the foster dogs in their crates. Megan didn’t usually take them to work at the castle with her, but today, they were gone.
She was gone. And as much as he’d hoped she would be here waiting for him, ready to apologize and talk things through, he wasn’t exactly surprised she wasn’t. She’d probably gone up to the castle for the night to give them both some space.
Maybe that was what they needed. But first, he wanted to see her, to see what exactly had happened that morning. And so, he turned around and left the farmhouse, striding toward the castle. He pushed through its heavy wooden doors, poking his head into various rooms until he found Ruby in the study with her laptop. She looked up, an apologetic expression on her face.
“Is she here?” he asked.
Her lips twisted. “She booked a flight to stay with her parents for a little while.”
He rocked back on his heels. She’d gone all the way to Florida? What the hell, Megan? “Did she tell you why?”
Ruby looked down at her hands. “Yes.”
“So, she’s gone.”
“She’ll be back.” Ruby looked up with sad eyes. “I just think…I think she’s more upset about her scars than any of us realized.”
Megan would come back to the castle. But would she come back to him? And would they be able to work things out if she did?
Megan had expected a lot more sympathy when she arrived at her parents’ Orlando doorstep that Wednesday afternoon. Sure, there had been plenty of hugs and tears when she first saw them, but now she was getting the not-so-subtle impression her mom thought she’d made a huge mistake running out on Jake the way she had.
“I’m sorry it’s not for happier reasons, but you know we’re always thrilled to have you home for a visit,” her mom said, pulling her in for a hug.
“It feels good to be here.” Megan followed her into the kitchen to help her fix supper. She’d gotten so caught up in everything with Jake that she hadn’t talked to her mom as much as usual this month. And she regretted that now. She’d always been so close with her parents. It wasn’t like her to blow them off for a guy. A lot of things she’d done lately weren’t like her.
“You want to talk about it?” her mom asked as she placed a cutting board and vegetables in front of Megan so she could start making the salad.
“No…yes…I don’t know.” She blew out a breath and stabbed the knife into a red bell pepper.
“Careful,” her mom said with a chuckle. “Can I tell you what I think?”
“Could I stop you even if I wanted to?” Megan felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“No, and you wouldn’t have come running home like this if you didn’t want my advice, so here it comes.” Her mom mixed ingredients for a marinade in a large Ziploc bag as she spoke. “The fir
st thing we need to talk about is your scars.”
“What about them?” She resisted the urge to touch her face, because then she’d have to wash her hands again before she finished chopping vegetables.
“It broke my heart when we brought you home after your accident last year.” Her mom’s tone softened. “I’d never seen you look so sad or…broken. And I’m not talking about your face—or your arm—for that matter. I mean your spirit.”
“Mom…” Her voice cracked.
“No, you’re going to hear me out.” Her mom squeezed a lemon into the bag and gave it a shake. “You’ve always been outgoing and flirtatious. Men are drawn to you, and it’s not just because of your looks. But yes, you’re gorgeous, Megan. You know we fielded modeling offers for you in high school. But that’s not why the boys flocked to you, or it’s not the only reason, anyway. It’s you. It’s your bubbly personality and your infectious laugh. You’re smart, and you’re caring, and you’re fun to be around.”
“Mom…”
“I’m not finished yet.” Her mom pointed a carrot in her direction before plopping it on the cutting board. “My point is that something inside you changed after your accident, like a light went out. I saw it. Your father saw it. Your friends saw it.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, fighting past the tightness in her throat.
“Because Elle called me, last winter. She was worried about you. We all were. It wasn’t like you to stop dating, or to start spending more time behind your camera than in front of it.”
“I was trying to launch my photography career,” she protested.
“Yes, but it was more than that, and you know it as well as I do. How many selfies have you taken this year? How many of them did you post on social media?” She paused for a moment with her eyebrows raised, and Megan dropped her gaze to the cutting board.
“Not many.”
“You’re hiding, and from what, Meg? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately, I mean, really looked?”